


Baiser

by SecretScribbles



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, aot, snk - Fandom
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, God knows I need them too sometimes, M/M, One Shot, SO MUCH FLUFF, Tumblr Prompt, jeanmarco, one of those reads you need after an emotional roller coaster and need to settle down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretScribbles/pseuds/SecretScribbles
Summary: Fluff McGuff from Fluffington, Fluffersville. Exchange student Jean has a little conversation with his generous roomie Marco and cute happens.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, thanks to the wonderful BimmyKimmy on Tumblr, there was a request for people to write cute little one-shots of JeanMarco's first kiss and I decided to play too. This was forever ago and I'm just now posting it on here because why the flip not? Enjoy the cute.
> 
> Also, if you find this on DA as well, yeah, I posted it there after I submitted it on tumblr so no worries.

\---

The language barrier wasn’t a barrier at all. In fact, Marco believed it brought them closer as friends. Often they would try to communicate by pointing and speaking the name of something, both learning and teaching at the same time. Marco could now say a handful of words to Jean in the simplest form, and have him understand what he meant by it, such as “toaster,” and Jean would agree or disagree to breakfast. Contrariwise, if Jean asked “car,” Marco would point to the map and ask where he wanted to go.

 

This morning was different, however. As Marco was washing the toast crumbs and eggs off of their dishes, Jean cleared his throat at the kitchen bar to gain his attention. He mumbled in French a bit before looking up to the brown-eyed man. 

 

“Ah… Um…” He rubbed the back of his head in discomfort, then held up his sketch book. “Marco?” he asked, pointing to the hardcover. “Modèle?”

 

"You want me to see it?" Marco asked, drying his hands. He stepped over to the other man and held his hand out to take the book, but Jean shook his head. 

 

"Marco, sit." He tapped the inside of his book. "Sit. Modèle." 

 

Marco’s confusion was still shown on his face, but he sat down on the living room couch nonetheless. He watched in bemusement, trying not to laugh, as Jean sat across from him in an armchair and wiggled about, stopping every so often in an interesting pose.

 

"Oh!" Marco finally got it. "Pose?" He held a hand to his chin with a dapper smile, earning frantic finger pointing from the exchange student. 

 

"Modèle!" Jean said, then copied. "Pose?" 

 

Marco nodded. "Pose. Modèle." He held a hand out to Jean, silently asking him how he wanted him to sit. The smaller man pushed his hand down to the coffee table and sat back in his chair comfortably, sighing loudly, as though he were relaxing after a hard day.

 

"Normal."

 

Jean’s head popped up. “Normal.” The way he said it was much prettier. Marco leaned into the couch and tried to sit comfortably, suddenly finding it to be a difficult task with someone watching. He finally settled for snuggling loosely into the corner, allowing his long, crossed legs to stretch over the rest of the couch and his arms to lay over the arm and back cushion.

 

Once Marco was seated, Jean opened his sketchbook and began drawing, silently looking up at the other man from time to time. The only sound heard in the room was the scratching of his pencil against the fibers of the paper, and in all honesty, Marco enjoyed it. He watched the foreign man dutifully sketch him, and couldn’t help but be mystified. Jean’s hands were a blur of swift motions that seemed too delicate for a human to have, yet were strong enough to conquer anything at the same time. His eyes were focused on his work, and steadily grew intense as he drew. After a while, he hunched over his sketch book, scribbling determinedly at something that left a scowl on his face. He growled in frustration and furiously rubbed out whatever mistake he had made, grumbling to himself in French. 

 

"What is it?" 

 

Jean popped his head up, surprised at the sudden question, as though he had forgotten Marco was there. “Uh…” He shook his head. “Ne vous inquiétez pas. Je suis juste un peu pointilleux.” He scratched at the back of his head as he tried to find a word to explain himself. “Wrong,” he said finally. 

 

Marco tilted his head. “Can I see?” He held his fingers over his eyes before pointing to the sketchbook. “See?”

 

"Voir?" Jean pointed to Marco, then to his book, earning a nod. 

 

"See, voir," Marco confirmed. 

 

Jean bit his lip, looking away as he tried to find more words. "Il n’est pas réalisé. Uh… Wrong." He shook his head, pointing to the drawing. "Finished." 

 

Marco shrugged. "It’s okay if it’s not finished. I want to see. Voir." He pointed to himself again as he said this. 

 

Jean sighed in defeat, then waved the freckled man over. Marco hopped up from the couch and scurried over to lean against the side of the arm chair as he peered down at the sketch. His eyes widened in delight once he saw the wonderful skill the Frenchman had practiced, and stared in awe of the pencil Marco in Jean’s sketchbook.

 

Jean had perfectly captured the light in Marco’s dark eyes, and seemed to have the magical ability to show whatever emotion the artist desired- in this case, a sense of peace. His dark hair looked better on paper than it did in his real, can’t-do-anything-with-this-cut-I’m-going-to-fire-my-stylist hair, and for once, Marco was delighted to see what others saw of it. His freckles were perfectly displayed over his shaded cheeks and strong bone structure, and his button nose had to be the most adorable thing Marco had ever seen. The only thing missing was his smile. It could be seen in his eyes, Jean’s talent was sure of that, but his lips were nowhere to be found.

 

"It’s beautiful." Marco smiled. "Belle." 

 

Jean quirked his mouth. "Je ne peux pas obtenir vos lèvres droit." He tapped at the missing lips on his page. 

 

"Lips?" Marco tapped at his mouth. 

 

"Lips," Jean tasted the word. "Lèvres."

 

Marco knelt down next to the other man and smiled up at him, pointing to his freckled face. “Pose. Lips,” he said. “Modèle. Le- Lèvr-” 

 

Jean snickered at his attempts. “Lèvres,” he corrected. “Lips.”

 

"English is easier to pronounce, shush," Marco sassed, earning another snicker. Jean sighed, but the determination in his eyes was growing quickly, and he set to work trying to sketch out those gorgeous lips. After a while, he grunted in frustration, and wiggled his fingers at Marco to come closer for a better look.

 

Marco complied, and leaned over the edge of the arm chair, holding still has Jean gently took hold of his jaw line, and not really minding if Jean’s smudgey fingers left marks on his skin- he thought it was cute. Jean inspected Marco’s lips carefully, finding how soft they were when he lightly swept his fingertips over the pink flesh. He blinked back to reality when Marco breathed out at the touch, and he dropped his hand embarrassed.

 

"Uh- Désolé. Je suis désolé," he mumbled, picking up his pencil again. Marco shook his head. 

 

"It’s okay," he nodded, hoping to tell the Frenchman he wasn’t offended. "Oui." 

 

Jean eyed the other man for a moment before setting his pencil down in the spine of his sketchbook, and resumed his physical search over Marco’s tantalizing mouth. He ticked his head, struggling to get the words out even if Marco couldn’t understand them. "Vous avez une très belle bouche."

 

Marco smiled, a small laugh escaping him. “Thank you?” he said, hoping it was a compliment. Whatever it was, he didn’t really care. He just liked it when Jean talked. 

 

“Très bon baiser les lèvres…” Jean mumbled, getting lost again. Marco licked his lips to draw in a breath, but chickened out before he could say anything. Instead, he closed his eyes at the sensation of Jean’s fingers against his skin, and was unable to keep a small smile from sneaking out. "Marco…"

He opened his eyes to a nervous Jean. He twitched a bit, as though he wanted to move forward but fear held him back. “Can I…” Marco shook his head. “No, nevermi-” He stopped short when Jean held a finger over the man’s lips.

 

"Baiser?" Jean asked. 

 

Marco looked to him, confused. "Baiser?" 

 

Gently, Jean tugged at Marco’s jaw line and guided him up to his face, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "Baiser," Jean whispered, still holding the man’s face against his. Marco smiled, pressing his forehead against Jean’s. 

 

"Baiser," he whispered. "Kiss."

**Author's Note:**

> I REGRET NOTHING. I did the thing.
> 
> Yay, translations for the parts that Marco couldn't figure out:  
> -Don't worry. I am just fussy.  
> -It is not achieved.  
> -I cannot get your lips right.  
> -Sorry. I am sorry.  
> -You have a very nice mouth.  
> -Very good kissable lips.


End file.
